Namaste
by Evil Towel
Summary: He was forgotten, presumed dead at the hands of his captors. But things are not always as they seem...and his plan to finally return home was interrupted by the need to finish what was begun. -Rated for blood-


**Disclaimer: ...we own stuff? Since when? **

You can tell I wrote this fic before the Chapter Black saga had even started _anywhere_, but I was too lazy to go back and fix it when I finished this story a couple weeks ago. After much editing and personal debating, you can finally read one of the most tragic (and difficult) things I have ever written!

((For those of you with me on your author alerts, this is the THIRD update in a FOUR-UPDATE series. If you have not recieved all the email alerts, check your Spam folder. Or something.))

There are three parts to this story--Parts Two and Three shall follow soon. With no further ado, Evil Towel's Niyali presents...

**Namaste  
**_The spirit in me recognizes the spirit in you _

**Part One **

Blood. Like a river, it streamed from numerous cuts on his body, staining his clothes a deep scarlet. The cloth could not hold any more wetness, and so he was standing in a puddle of his own blood, which grew larger by the minute. He didn't have much time.

Captivity had never suited him. Foxes were meant to be free, not trapped in a cage. Especially for him, such was torture...quite literally. His captors had been extremely delighted after he'd fallen into the trap instead of their desired target—Hiei. The fire demon would have had to go through the same pain and suffering he had—but he'd taken his place. And Kurama was, apparently, a more desirable prize than Hiei.

That had been two months ago. The kidnappers were clever, with much experience—they'd left no clue, no trace of where they had gone for anyone to follow. Even Hiei, who had been resigned to watching helplessly as Kurama was taken, couldn't find them. Kurama would have died at his captors' hands—if their greed hadn't overcome them.

Demon hunters, some might call them. That was the nice way of saying it. In truth, they were vicious demons, who despised humans and were determined that associating with them was a sin, and the sinner was to be severely punished. Pain of death? Of course—an excruciating, bloody death, filled with pain and suffering, and could take as long as the torturers wanted. The more hideous the "sin", the longer it would take for the prisoner to die.

Hiei had been on the list for fighting on Yusuke's team in the Dark Tournament (not to mention helping with the Suzaku mission). Kurama was even higher on the list—merging with a human was perhaps the worst thing a demon could do.

The agony—the hours of torture—Kurama couldn't remember all the things that had been done to him. So much pain—he'd never felt anything like it. His match with Karasu in the Dark Tournament didn't even come close.

Once he realized there was no way for his friends to find him, he'd decided to find his own way out. And he'd come up with a plan. It probably wasn't the best plan he'd had—but it was his only choice.

What would happen if all humans were eliminated? Then there wouldn't be any demons who had socialized with them who needed to be punished, because there wouldn't be any humans to socialize with! Wipe out all humans, and the demons could take over Ningenkai, and have two realms...but this could never be. God created humans to have a better balance between good and evil. It would take a great power to unwork such a doing. Where could one get this power? Did it even exist?

Unfortunately, it did.

His bloodied hand tightened on the small, fragile mirror he held. Great pains had he taken to get this. The Forlorn Hope, sometimes called the Mirror of Darkness, had been fixed by Koenma's father and was still heavily guarded in the King's Vault—but the King of Thieves had had little trouble stealing it. It was all the setting-up, convincing his captors that the Forlorn Hope, if their desire was strong enough, could destroy human life.

It got harder before he even left their stronghold.

To make sure he wouldn't bolt straight to his friends, they'd placed a sort of collar on his neck. It contained a tracking device, and they could communicate with him (one-way communication). Besides cutting him off from his energy (no matter what he tried, he couldn't do a thing with plants), they could also monitor what he was doing through it. If he ran away, they'd kill him. If he did something that could potentially harm them, or if there were any signs of him being caught, they'd kill him. It didn't matter to them—they could do without the Forlorn Hope, and they could certainly do without him. Do without their organization, or their lives—that was unacceptable.

This, of course, completely ruined Kurama's plan—to trigger one of the alarms in Koenma's palace, get caught before he even made it out, and then turn in his captors so they could never harm somebody again. He'd had to turn to Plan B.

Unable to purposefully slip up and alert the palace guards to what he was doing, he'd left another sort of message—blood. Try as they might, his captors could not keep him from bleeding. A little blood had spilled wherever he walked, forming a sort of trail towards the King's Vault, a bit on the Forlorn Hope's stand (as well as its fellow artifacts), and some where he walked now. A small bit of blood was easy to miss—several small bits, however, weren't. Doubtless, Koenma had called in the Spirit Detectives—surely one of them would have been able to tell whom the blood belonged to. And then they would find him.

But his captors, through the collar, knew what he was doing, and had instructed him to hide somewhere while they came to retrieve the Forlorn Hope—and him. They were all coming—it was too risky to only send one of their party.

He had no choice but to comply, and his captors knew his exact location, so they could find him easier, and much faster then the Spirit Detectives. And then they'd kill him for making such a blunder.

The best place to hide was in plain sight, so he was "hiding" on a rooftop. Specifically, the rooftop of Spirit Detective Yusuke's apartment. It was doubtful they'd look there—but he hoped that if Koenma had Hiei on the job, he could use his Jagan to find him. Oh, wait; the collar would make that difficult. All right, then, he could hope Yusuke would use the Demon Compass to find him—the collar couldn't prevent that if they had a sample of his DNA, and there was certainly enough DNA in blood...

But his captors would have a head start, and they would probably reach him first.

Under no circumstances was he going to allow humanity to die. He wasn't going to let his captors so much as touch the mirror. They would kill him for that.

...but what if he was already dead?

Use the mirror, it grants your wish. Grants your wish—it needs your life.

Part two of Plan B was one he'd hoped he never had to use, but now it looked as if he had no choice.

_Use it,_ he urged himself, _Use the Forlorn Hope now!_ To use it, you needed a wish—well, he had one. Sort of. If he'd thought of it long ago, he'd have said it was impossible. But nothing was impossible—especially if you had something that _had_ to fulfill the wish.

Could his friends be happy with him dead?

He didn't doubt that they could. They hadn't seen him in two months—"out of sight, out of mind" as the saying goes. And after time, the pain of loss fades—they would get over it. In time.

And with the mirror, he could speed up their happiness, so they wouldn't spend too long mourning over his death. People died every day, right? And he wasn't dying for nothing. There was no other way to do this.

This was it. He couldn't come back to life—the mirror would consume his spirit as well. And since his spirit was, technically, Yoko Kurama—this was the end of both Shuichi Minamino and Yoko Kurama.

He spoke the words to activate the mirror and watched it come to life.

**"THE HAPPINESS OF YOUR FRIENDS,"** boomed the mirror, as it showed his friends, **"IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?"**

"For them to be immediately happy after my death, yes, it is."

**"TO GRANT THIS WISH, YOU MUST GIVE YOUR LIFE. IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?"** Kurama paused and took a deep breath before answering.

"Yes."

**"YOUR DESIRE SHALL BE FULFILLED."**

Energy lashed out from the mirror, binding him to one spot as it slowly began to suck away his life. He closed his eyes, submitting to the inevitable, trying to remain calm as scenes from his life flashed before his eyes in a blur.

"_Forget about me, go, RUN!" "This is the happiest day of my life—I think I'll call him Shuichi." "You're telling me this is the great Yoko Kurama?" "The name's Yusuke. I'm a Spirit Detective." "Yeah, well, it doesn't make sense for us giving your mom hers so she can spend her whole life mourning the death of her son!" "Is this the perfect team or what?" "You ok?" "Only one of you teams gets to fight in the Dark Tournament." "...and since I have your human mother it's really the only thing you can do!" "KURAMA!" "...I have secured victory for my Shinobi set...and so I die, knowing it is not in vain." "It seems I've come to know you quite well in such a short time, and I rather like you. Let's not have this slaying ruin our friendship." "...but that's not all! I can tell you who really gave us the items! Please, have mercy!" "...your hair is damaged, Kurama...I know you fear what my touch can do to you...but at the same time, perhaps you also want to know it." "You weren't able to beat me then, and you won't be able to now. But you're welcome to try." "Your red hair is perfect for the fiery streak of yours...a streak that needs indulging. Well, here goes!" "You should have stayed down...but I guess it's not your style!" "KURAMA!"_

Bathed in moonlight and blood, Kurama stood rooted to the spot as the Mirror of Darkness devoured his life. He did not see the small group of people sneaking onto the roof. He did not hear the door to the stairs slamming open, and he didn't sense the black blur racing towards him from many rooftops away.

"KURAMA!"

All he felt was pain and a strange falling sensation. Falling, falling, falling—

And then there was nothing.

_..::To be Continued::.._


End file.
